Glory Days
by XoDixonXo
Summary: "We are not clinging to something because we're dependent, we're clinging to something because it makes us feel anything but sadness; it gives up hope,". A plane crash, a tortured man, a broken woman. There's something from the start and they both know it, but with an island that's out to kill them, that 'something' is out of the question... Right? Sayid/OC Rated T/Eventual M


_Hey everyone!_

 _For those of you who have come from my Maze Runner series, welcome back! If you're new here, welcome to the family. I told my Maze Runner family recently that something new was coming and, well, this is it. A Lost fic. I COULDN'T RESIST._

 _I recently watched the entire series for the first time on Netflix, and by 'watched' I mean binged the entire series in about a month and a half. I was obsessed. There are very few shows that have touched me the way Lost did, how could I NOT write something? So many ideas!_

 _Sayid struck me as a very unique character. He was by far my favorite character in the series (with Sawyer at a close second). Ever since I finished the series, I've been missing the show so much, so I traveled on over to fanfictionnet to look for some good stories and noticed that there are practically NO Sayid stories. My man deserves better!_

 _I honestly hope that I can not only do Sayid justice, but the series as well. I hold it near and dear to my heart so I hope you all enjoy this just as much as I enjoyed writing it._

* * *

Have you ever felt like you completely lost control? Of your body, your mind, your situation? Can't think, can't breathe, can't function? Have you ever experienced a moment where you were at such a loss that all you could do was think, "This is where I'm going to die,"?

Not everyone has—unfortunately, most do. It's that kind of feeling where you either accept it or you don't, come to terms or don't. These moments can be over in the blink of an eye and, once you get thrown back into reality, mean nothing.

Sometimes, however, these moments can keep going.. And going, and going and going—until there's nothing left or, hell, maybe even make you lose your mind. Moments like that can alter a person, make them flinch when near a stranger or jump at the sign of smoke.

Despite all of this, whether you know it or not, these moments are life-changing, and you're either blessed to have it happen or you're damned.

* * *

Screams. Cries. Burning pain. Pleads for help. Lifelessness. Burning pain. The pain was unbearable, practically damn near impossible to ignore.

" _Son of a bitch_ ," Camila groaned, squinting her eyes at the bright sun gleaming down on her. Camila rubbed her eyes, wiping the hot sand away from her face. A warm and sticky liquid left remnants on her hand, indicating a head wound.

"Ah!" She hissed, the burning pain shooting up into her wrist. Screams encased her, running laps around her as she lay in the sand. "Okay, girl, breathe. Just look at it, it can't be that bad..." She whispered hopeful encouragement to herself before popping her eyes open wide to inspect the damage that was emitting from her left hand. In the shadows of the bright day a bony, twisted finger could be seen. "Shit," she whimpered, squeezing the injured index finger for a test of pain tolerance. The pressure left immediately when a sharp pain shot through her arm.

"Cool, not doing that again...". Plopping her head back down into the sand below her, Camila's eyes closed in an attempt to remember the events leading up to a broken finger and a bloody skull.

"Does anybody have a pen?!" a voice screeched from above her.

Sand was kicked into Camila's face, making her shoot upright immediately. Coughing and sputtering, she opened her eyes and couldn't help but gasp. The sun was shining brightly over the sparkling ocean, miles upon miles of water surrounding her. To the left and right were rows of beach and tall trees that swayed in the breeze.

"Oh my god," Camila whispered at the mass chaos all around her, a throng of people screaming and running around aimlessly. Dead or injured bodies littered the beach among piles of suitcases and junk.

"What the hell happened?".

* * *

"Just let me take a look at you, please,".

"I'm fine, really. Besides, you're the only doctor here, sir, I'm sure you have a lot more to worry about than a dislocated finger and a cut-up face," Camila sighed. The man who had already saved multiple people from the crash ran a tired hand down his face.

"It's really not a problem—,".

"Go do what you need to do. If you're that persistent about helping me, when you have free time later, come find me,".

He looked at Camila for a moment, thinking it over, before he finally nodded.

"Alright. But I'm going to come find you later,".

"Understood," Camila said smiling, saluting him quickly. Earning a smile, he stood up, brushing his suit pants.

"What's your name?".

"Huh?" she asked.

"Your name—for when I come to find you later?".

"Oh, sorry. Dosed off for a second there. It's Camila," Camila smiled. The look of worry increased on his face.

"Dosed off? You sure you don't have a concussion? I can look at you now, it's really okay—,".

"Please go. I'll wrap it up myself and you can do your doctor thing later,". Standing in silence, the pair watched each other quietly.

"Okay, Camila. See you later," the man said, turning to walk away.

"Hey, you never told me _your_ name!" Camila called after him, jumping up in an attempt to chase after him.

"The name's Jack,".

Standing alone, Camila had time to think back to the last few hours; the last few hellish hours. It had been madness. A vane on the plane had broken off on the beach, almost killing multiple people, including a pregnant woman who went by the name Claire.

The doctor, Jack, had managed to help a marshal that had injured himself in the crash. He was stable now but by no means getting better. Looking down, she took the time to assess herself.

Her long, straight blonde hair had run wavy in the hot air. There were rips in both of the knees of her jeans that had not been there when she boarded Oceanic Flight 815, but she couldn't deny that she kind of liked the way they looked. The navy green tank top she wore had a small tear in the bottom, but not enough to be thrown away.

"I'm a mess," she sighed, tilting her head back to stare up at the sky.

Why today? Why _this_ flight?

"Anyone who wants to help get a fire started, we could use all the help we can get!" someone shouted. Looking to her left, Camila saw a group of people standing together, discussing camp plans.

"I will retrieve the firewood," a man offered, crossing his arms across his chest.

Watching him quietly, Camila couldn't help but notice the way his broad arms were displayed against his wife-beater. A baggier button-up was worn over the tee, his loose jeans reaching a bit below his ankles. His hair had been slightly slicked back but thrown array in the crash. It was almost as if there was some sort of pull, something telling her to go with him.

"I'll go with you," Camila offered before realizing the words had left her lips. The man's eyes shot over to her immediately, looking her up and down as if to be judging her. "If you don't want someone to go with, you can just say so," Camila sighed, crossing her arms against her chest. He shook his head slightly, eyebrows raised.

"No, not at all. You are more than welcome to come,".

Without waiting, he turned on his heel and headed quickly into the jungle, Camila quick on his heels.

* * *

"So, you let just about anyone follow you into the jungle to collect firewood?" Camila smiled, trying to break the awkward silence.

The man had not said one word to her since entering the jungle, instead quick to find any wood. A bag filled with sticks and logs was draped over his shoulder as he collected.

"It's not every day that one crashes on an island and needs to scavenge for firewood—besides, you don't look too harmful," he said, shooting her a small smile back.

"How do you know I'm harmless? For all you know, I could be a serial killer,".

The man's smile dropped as he turned back around to face the endless trees and greenery.

"A serial killer, maybe, but a serial killer that is in the same boat as the rest of us.. I could've pegged you wrong though,".

"Nah, you got it right. I have some bite to me, though," Camila said, sticking her foot out. He tripped over her foot, making her chuckle.

"Is that one of your serial killer moves?" he joked, smirking back at her over his shoulder.

"You got me all figured out,".

The two walked in silence, grabbing anything that looked like it would burn. Camila had been enjoying their conversation, despite their current situation. His voice didn't hurt to listen to, either. His voice was smooth and deep with a very slight accent. When he smiled, bright white teeth could be seen. It made her want to smile right along with him. Forgetting about her hand injury, Camila picked up a log with the wrong hand, a sharp pain shooting up her arm.

"Ah!" she yelped, dropping the log to the ground.

"Are you okay?" he asked, turning quickly to check on her.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Jack thinks I dislocated my finger, forgot when I picked up some wood," Camila winced, rubbing the palm of her hand.

"Jack the doctor?".

Camila nodded, a grimace permanently planted on her face.

"Shouldn't he have done something for your pain?".

The man gently took my injured hand in his and began to inspect it, turning it and examining it from different angles.

"He tried, but I wouldn't let him... He has way too much on his plate right now to be worrying about some girl's finger," Camila explained, shrugging her shoulders.

"And you _don't_ have a lot on your plate?" the man asked as he gingerly let go of my hand to cross his arms. His head dropped to the side, waiting for an explanation.

"Well of course I do, we all do, but come on, he's a damn _doctor_. He's got a lot more doctor stuff to deal with than I do,".

"Did he at least help with the head injury?".

"Excuse me?" Camila asked, taken aback that he had even figured out a head injury. Jack had long since cleaned the blood away and my hair was covering the wound, or so I thought.

"I notice these things," the man said, staring deeply at Camila, almost to the point of discomfort. In two long strides he was in her face, ripping a sleeve off of his shirt.

"What are you—,".

"I'm doing doctor stuff," the man smiled, taking her hand in his.

"You really don't have to...".

"I am going to count to three. After that, I will fix your finger," he explained, once again examining the injured hand.

"Jesus Christ.." she moaned, squeezing her eyes shut.

"You'll be fine, I promise. Here, hold on for the pain,".

Reaching down, he grabbed her good hand and placed it on his bicep. His arm was already flexed, prepared for her to clamp down on it if necessary.

"One.. Two..".

 _Crack_.

Camila let out a sharp scream, squeezing onto his arm for dear life. Had she not been in such pain, she would've noticed the way his arm rippled against her hand.

"What happened to _three_ , dammit?" Camila groaned, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

"Waiting until three just makes it worse,".

Camila watched in silence as the man took a pen out of his pocket and pressed it up against the now straightened-out finger, wrapping the two lightly together with his shredded article of clothing.

"How do you know how to do all this?" she asked in awe of how quickly his hands moved.

"It comes with the job description,".

"And what job would that be?".

He was silent for a moment before responding.

"A job that requires you to know how to put people back together,".

"Oh, so you're some sort of doctor too?".

"I wouldn't say that. There, all better. You okay to keep going? I can walk you back to the beach if you'd like,".

"No, I'm fine. I can't leave yet, I haven't even gotten your name yet!" Camila smiled, trying to mask the pain she felt throbbing out of her injured finger.

"Sorry, I don't tell serial killers my name,".

Camila caught the smile on his face before he could turn away.

"Do you fix every serial killer that you come across?".

They both walked in what was now a comfortable silence before the man's voice echoed through the trees.

"It's Sayid. Sayid Jarrah,".

Camila smiled, nudging him in the shoulder with her arm.

"That's different, I like it. Nice to meet you Sayid. I'm Camila. Camila Alpert,".

Sayid nodded, taking her name in.

"Camila. That's a beautiful name,".

* * *

The pair had searched for about another hour before Sayid suggested going back as it would be dark soon. There was some rambling here and there, but for most of the time, a now comfortable silence had fallen over the two. At some point during the trip back, Sayid had offered to carry Camila's bag of firewood, but she insisted on carrying it herself. Being stuck on an island (hopefully not for too long) meant that she had to hold her own, even if that was just carrying firewood back to camp. He was hesitant knowing that she had been hurt in the crash, but Camila brushed his concern to the side, even if it did feel a little good knowing how concerned he was. It was weird, though, knowing they had just met; generosity must be in his nature.

By the time they got back to the beach, it was dinnertime. Throngs of people flocked around the site of the crash, looking for warmth and food. Someone Camila hadn't met yet was dolling out arrays of canned food and candy bars.

"Well, we should probably get this fire going. Thanks for letting me tag along," Camila sighed, shooting a smile his way. Sayid nodded as he shrugged the heavy bag of firewood off of his shoulder.

"Of course. Next time I need to get firewood, I know who to call,".

Before Camila could respond, Sayid reached forward and helped slide her bag of firewood off of her shoulder.

"Thanks," she smiled, to which she got another nod.

Turning on his heels, Sayid began to make his way toward what seemed to be a makeshift firepit that someone or a group of people had made at one point in the day. Throwing the wood down, Sayid crouched on to one knee and got to work.

"Hey, Camila!".

"Oh, hey Claire," Camila smiled at the sight of the pregnant blonde.

She was beautiful, her long wavy blonde hair almost down to her belly button. Her baby belly made it hard for her to walk, but with a hand on her stomach, she made it over.

"How's your day been?" Claire asked as Camila helped her sit down on an abandoned towel in the sand.

"As good as it can be, I guess. You're the pregnant one, though—I can only imagine what you're going through,".

"It's not too bad... Unless the baby's kicking, of course, then it's not that fun," Claire giggled, making Camila laugh as well.

"Major props to you, girl.. I complained about Sayid popping my finger back into place while you're over here being crazy pregnant,".

Claire's eyes popped open in shock.

"Woah woah woah, Sayid, A popped finger, crazy pregnant? That's a lot to take in!".

Cheering came from all around them suddenly. Looking over her shoulder, Camila saw a big, bright fire behind Sayid, where numerous people were thanking him.

"Want to sit by the fire?" Camila asked, getting ready to help Claire up.

"No, no, I'm fine here. Who knows how long it'll take me to get up, anyway," Claire joked, but it was easy to tell that she was cold and uncomfortable.

"Claire, please, you're freezing. Come on, give me your hand," Camila smiled, reaching her hand out to Claire.

Smiling back, Claire took her hand and pulled, standing up with her new friend's help. The two walked towards the fire and sat down where they were greeted with a bag of pretzels, some nuts and water.

"For you, ladies," the man said.

"Thanks, Hurley," Claire replied with a smile.

"Yeah, thanks," Camila said, even though she hadn't met him yet.

Hurley was a big man, with medium-length curly black hair. His smile was bright and goofy, the happiness on face despite the situation contagious. It was hard to not smile around him.

"I don't think we've met yet. I'm Hurley, but my friends call me Hugo sometimes," Hurley said, thrusting his hand out in front of Camila's face. In the corner of her eye, she could see Claire holding back a giggle.

"Camila," she said smiling, reaching up to shake his hand.

"I know we're not supposed to be giving out extra food, but If you ladies are ever hungry, let me know, I'll hook you up," Hurley chuckled before heading on his merry way.

"He's... Sweet," Camila said to Claire, struggling to find the right word. Nodding, Claire piled up the food and drinks into her hands.

"He sure is. What do you want?".

"Oh no, Claire, I can't. You're pregnant, you need the food more than I do," Camila said, shaking her head as she pushed the food towards Claire.

"Cam, you have to eat! You need just as much strength as the rest of us!".

"Yeah, except you need _double_ the strength we all do, you're feeding for two,".

"But you lost a good amount of blood today, Camila... Please, take something,".

"I'll be fine," Camila insisted, taking Claire's hands and wrapping them around the food.

"It's really no big deal, Claire... I'll eat in the morning. Promise,".

"I feel so bad.. Having this baby makes me feel like _such_ a burden," Claire sighed, her lip turning into a pout.

"What? No, Claire, that is _not_ true. Your baby is a blessing, not a burden," Camila said.

Claire smiled something sad, looking down into her food. Looking up from their conversation, Camila spotted Sayid standing off in the distance, watching her with a disappointed look on his face; she assumed he had seen the whole conversation. Knowing he was watching her was making her uncomfortable, so she excused herself and left Claire to her dinner.

Brushing off her pants, Camila made her way down to the water. Once at the water line, she toed her shoes and socks off, plopping her butt into the sand below. Her toes sunk into the cool sand, goosebumps covering her as the water gently washed over her feet. Had her situation not been so bleak, she may have enjoyed the feeling. Out over the horizon Camila only saw more water. Endless amounts of water rested everywhere around her, while the stars twinkled above in the night sky.

"A lot different than skyscrapers," Camila sighed, resting her eyes shut for a moment.

She was glad to have some alone time, some peace and quiet despite the mutterings and laughs from above on the beach by the fire. Some weren't too worried by the situation, she'd heard—why worry when help would be coming in a few days? Then there were the survivalists, the ones who were preparing for the rest of their lives to be on this island. Who knows what's out there, what creatures, what secrets?

"Yeah, right," she snorted, laughing at the though.

Secrets?

It's just an island.

Sure, it was just an island, but an island they were all stuck on nonetheless. An island surrounded by water, sand and stars. An island that there was no getting off of.

A loud grumbling echoed in the distance, shaking the ground. The water bounced at Camila's feet. Gasps and shouts came from the campsite, people pointing out at the forest that she had trekked through mere hours earlier. Standing up in the sand, Camila hurried towards the group of people that were now collecting near the tree line.

"What's going on?" she asked, but was shushed quiet by a stranger.

Off in the distance, the trees, the giant trees that touched the sky, were moving. Something in the forest was still rumbling, making the ground shake, the trees move violently.

"What the hell is that?" someone asked, worry and fear in their voice. A blonde man in the crowd was , surprisingly, sporting black eyeliner, started to speak.

"The better question is, what the hell's going on on this bloody island?"

* * *

Getting ready to sleep that night was painful—where to sleep, what to sleep in, what to sleep on... The silliest things could also be the most stressful. Camila had never been the type of person to sleep in jeans; come on, who was? A tall, attractive man by the name of Boone had been sorting clothes for everyone to take and wear earlier, but Camila felt a tad uncomfortable just going over to the clothing stash and taking things; she hadn't been lucky enough to find her luggage with her own clothes yet. She was still holding out hope that someone would find it, though.

Hurley, yet again, had been sweet enough to grab her some blankets and such for sleeping on and under, but she didn't have the time to make any type of tent or sleeping area like some people earlier, she had been busy. Most were like her, thankfully, still not fully set up yet.

"You did not eat,".

Camila jumped at the voice, startling her from behind. A worried hand on her chest, she twisted her head around to see Sayid standing above her, his arms still crossed like before.

"Shit, Sayid, do you always sneak up on people like that?" Camila growled, shaking her head.

"Only on people who refuse dinner,". At this, Camila let out a frustrated sigh—he clearly wasn't going to give up on this one.

"Sayid, Claire is pregnant. She needs the nutrition more than I do," Camila tried to explain, but Sayid wasn't having it.

"So that means you starve yourself? Brilliant idea,".

"No need for dramatics, I ate this morning at the airport,".

"According to my watch, it is 11:30, which means you have not eaten in over twelve hours. I think you're due," Sayid continued to argue.

"Listen, Sayid, I promised Claire I would eat in the morning, so I'll promise you the same. I appreciate the concern, I really do, but it's not needed. I'm a big girl, I can handle myself," Camila spat, running a hand through her knotty hair.

Sayid continued to shoot her a disapproving look but seemingly gave in to her rude response.

"Fine. Have a good night,".

Camila was surprised at Sayid's curt response and immediately felt bad for snapping at Sayid. She watched him walk away before words spilled out of her mouth.

"Wait, Sayid?".

The man stopped walking but didn't turn around, instead he only turned his head towards her.

"I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that," Camila apologized, grimacing at how bad she knew she had sounded.

"It's quite alright.. We're all entitled to a little stress after the day we've had," Sayid said. As he began to walk away, Camila felt a strange feeling of emptiness and something that felt a little bit like panic.

" _Wait_!" Camila yelped, scrambling up to her feet, rushing to catch up with him.

In her hurry, she didn't notice him pause and turn around, her chest bumping into his. They stood so close, his long black locks tickling her face, her fingertips brushing his arm. In that moment she noticed just how much taller her was than her, almost two whole heads. Camila felt his gaze deep inside of her, as if he could see right through her.

"Can you stay? Just for a little bit... I haven't exactly done the whole 'I need to fall asleep on a beach that I'm stranded on' thing before," Camila asked. She shot him an embarrassed smile, to which he responded with a chuckle.

"I cannot say I've done this before either. I'll stay until you fall asleep, you have my word,".

Camila mouthed a silent 'thank you' to him, too embarrassed to say it out loud. Was she a child? She couldn't fall asleep without someone there by her side? She wanted to smack herself for even asking.

"Is this where you're sleeping?" Sayid asked when the silence become too potent. Camila shrugged, staring down at the towel in the sand.

"I guess so. Didn't really know where to sleep, so I kind of just made camp right here. Where are you sleeping?" she asked, looking over at Sayid.

"Down a bit that way," Sayid nodded down the beach, making a gesture with his hand.

"It's nice down there; not super isolated, but enough out of the way,".

"It is good for privacy," Sayid agreed with her, nodding as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

Looking out at the ocean once more, a wave of sadness washed over Camila. She sighed, plopping to the ground.

"Do you think someone is going to save us?".

Sayid took a moment before sitting down next to her. He took a deep breath before looking over at her.

"Do you want my honest opinion?" he asked. She paused for a moment, noticing how, even when they were sitting, he still managed to tower over her.

"Of course,".

Sayid watched her in silence for a second, debating whether or not he should be honest with her, but when he saw her eager expression, he couldn't lie.

"I think we may be here for a while,".

"I appreciate the honesty,".

While she really did want his honest opinion, it still hurt to hear. There was something about him that made her think he was hardened, was ready for stuff like this. She wanted to know more.

"I couldn't help but notice that you are not wearing any shoes," Sayid randomly spoke, changing the upsetting topic. Looking down, she saw he was right—she had forgotten her shoes down by the water.

"Ugh, shit. I left that down by the water. I was so freaked out over, _whatever_ , was making those noises in the jungle that I just up and ran. I should probably go get them,".

"No, let me. Where by the water?".

Camila tried to deny his help but Sayid was persistent, not taking no for an answer. After finally giving up, she gave him instructions on where to find her shoes and socks. Camila watched Sayid stand up in silence, his arms bulging as he pushed off of his knees to stand up. As he walked away, she couldn't help but notice how attractive he was; whether he knew it or not, she didn't know, but he was definitely a looker. Sayid was gone for a while but when he returned, he came back empty handed.

"Bad news?" Camila grimaced. She pulled her knees in tight as she waited for an hour.

"Bad news," Sayid responded, "Either they washed away in the water or someone took them. I can always go get a new pair from the clothes pi—,".

"No, you've done more than enough to help me for one day, Sayid. I mean, I never even properly thanked you for fixing my finger. I really appreciate it," Camila said, holding up her finger with Sayid's makeshift splint that he had quickly crafted for her.

"It was really no problem, I am glad I could help,".

As Sayid sat down again, Camila laid down and pulled a blanket over her body, rolling on to her side so she could face Sayid.

"Tell me something about yourself," Camila whispered, listening to the snores around her. A grimace twisted its way on to Sayid's face.

"There's not much you would want to know... There aren't many good stories,".

"Don't give me that look, it's okay. It doesn't have to be a good story, as long as you feel comfortable telling it. I just... In the woods there we were, complete and total strangers, and I trusted you to fix my hand. That probably seems silly but that took a lot for me. Now here we are and for some reason, I feel really comfortable with you being here right now, really safe. But you want to know the best part about all of this? I know nothing about you. Just your name. But I still feel so... I don't know, just safe," When the words left her mouth, she felt herself blushing over how much she had just said. Sayid's face was blank, no emotion. "Jesus, I'm sorry for getting so cheesy, Sayid, you just make a woman feel safe, I don't know!" Camila laughed, throwing her head back as she did so.

Sayid smiled, chuckling with her.

"It wasn't cheesy at all—I have enjoyed your company today just as much. It made coping with.. _Everything_ , a whole lot easier,".

Seeing her genuine smile aimed towards him pushed Sayid to tell a story from his childhood, one of the few good ones he remembered. It didn't take long for Camila to fall asleep, however, and when he knew she was definitely asleep, he pulled her blanket up a little higher before heading to his own bed for the night.

* * *

Camila awoke with a scream. It was short and not too loud, but a scream nonetheless. Covered in sweat, her head whipped around in confusion, momentarily forgetting where she was. When her hands scooped up pockets of sand it all came back to her.

" _Please, just let me go!"_.

Curling her knees up to her chest, Camila tucked her head in between her knees, begging for the voices to stop.

" _Stop screaming while I'm still being nice_ ".

Her sandy hands clamped over her ears, hoping the screaming would go away but it never did.

" _Fuck_!" Camila yelped, pushing off of her knees to stand up, gasping at the forgotten pain in her hand.

Wrapping herself in a blanket, Camila broke into a sprint up the sand past all of the sleeping Oceanic 815 survivors. When she reached the line separating the jungle from the beach she stared up at the trees, then into the deep, dark jungle. _Screw it_ , she thought, stepping in.

Looking over her shoulder, she spotted Sayid's small area where he was sleeping. She almost missed it, but she saw his eyes on her in the dark from where he was laying; she had woken him up. Something inside of her was telling her to go to him, aching almost. What the hell? She hasn't even known this man for 24 hours and she already felt dependent on him.

 _No_.

She wasn't about to be that woman. Sprinting, she ran off into the jungle.

* * *

Camila continued to run until her legs gave out, tears streaming down her face. It was as if her nightmare had broken her, finally made her realize how screwed they all really were. Camila had tried to keep her brave façade on for as long as she could, but that wall had fallen. Falling against a tree her body collapsed to the floor in a pile, her body shaking as she wept. The island was mysteriously cold, making her shiver despite the blanket. Minutes later droplets began to fall from the sky, a steady rain beginning to fall. The rain almost masked his footsteps but she heard them before he could surprise her.

"Please just leave. I don't want to talk," Camila cried, unable to look up at Sayid.

"Camila—,".

"Dammit, I don't even know you! You're just some guy I happened to meet after a plane crash who helped patch me up, you don't need to constantly check up on me to make sure if I'm alright!" Camila shouted, her wet hair whipping her in the face as she looked up at him.

"Are you not upset?" Sayid asked, trying to make his point.

"It shouldn't matter. It _doesn't_ matter. I will _not_ be the woman who clings to the first guy she meets because she can't take care of herself, Sayid,".

"I never said you were that woman," Sayid replied, his voice calm against her angry one.

"I just.. I can't," Camila tried to speak, but the rain drops mixed in with her tears and she was gone again, cries escaping her lips.

"I know," Sayid spoke quietly as he walked closer.

" _Please_ don't. I don't want to talk right now, I can't," Camila was almost begging him now as he reached her.

"I'm not here to talk," Sayid said, reassuring her.

Rain smacked Camila in the face as she looked up at Sayid in confusion. Silently Sayid turned around and sat down next to her, his back against another tree. The only sounds to be heard were the rain drops pattering against the dirt, Camila's quiet sniffles and Sayid's calm breathing. The pair sat together for what felt like hours when Camila had the urge to speak, like she'd explode if she didn't.

"Sayid—,".

"I know you said that we do not know each other, that of which is true. But this isn't a normal situation, Camila. We are not clinging to something because we're dependent, we're clinging to something because it makes us feel anything but sadness; it gives up hope,".

Sighing, Camila's head fell to the side, resting on Sayid's shoulder, which is where it remained until she fell asleep listening the sound of his breathing rising and falling against her.

* * *

 _Well? What'd y'all think?_

 _I honestly hate writing the first chapter for stories because they're just so damn hard. You have so many ideas for the future but setting it up is truly the toughest part._

 _Obviously these two have something between right from the jump, but there will, of course, be obstacles that get in the way. I'd like to say it'll be a slow burn but my readers already know it won't be, I get too eager (Unless it's Thomas and Sutton, they're a different story). I'll TRY, but no promises._

 _Let me know opinions down below, they mean so much, good or bad._

 _Either way, I really hope you enjoyed. ***If you're new to my page and looking for something to read, feel free to check out my series that is based off of the hit book/movie series The Maze Runner. It starts with Save Me From Myself which leads into Save Us From Ourselves (currently unfinished). There is also a vignette companion series called The Nostalgia That Haunts Us if you want to check that out as well, we'd love to see you over there as well!_

 _Thanks for the love and thanks for stopping by. Cami appreciates it!_


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